


x days, x months, x years....

by LPSunnyBunny



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (Extremely mild), Alternate Universe - High School, Child Neglect, Drug Use, Explicit Consent, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nothing bad its just weed, Slurs, Teacher-Student Relationship, Trans Dave Strider, Trans Male Character, Underage Prostitution, Unrelated Striders, transphobic language, unhealthy sexual behaviors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29625852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPSunnyBunny/pseuds/LPSunnyBunny
Summary: Dave's just like any other kid, trying to make it through high school. An unexpected connection with his gym teacher might make it a bit easier.
Relationships: Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Dave Strider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grubbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grubbutts/gifts).



Every other Wednesday is when his dealer gets his new shit. By now, it's like clockwork. He goes to the bathroom on the second floor behind the gym during lunch and waits patiently for the guy to show up. The transaction is the same as ever- a crumpled twenty into the guy's palm and a quick blowjob to make up the difference for how much he asks for. He's gotten good enough at it that the entire thing takes less than ten minutes, start to finish, and he swishes his mouth out in the drinking fountain on his way out.

The lock on the double-doors leading outside by the gym are busted, something discovered by accident. He's only a sophomore, so he's not allowed outside to eat yet like the juniors and seniors, so he's gotta take what he can get. Jiggle the doorpush handle, listen for the specific click that means the lock's slipped open, and slip on out. Don't forget to wedge the door open with a rock, if it closes on you you're fucked. 

Then it's just a matter of squatting down against the wall and rolling his shit. Lighter from his pocket, light it up, tuck it away. 

Breathe. Hold. Exhale.

Dave rests his chin on his knees and stares blankly at nothing. 

It's late fall, so there's a hint of cold crisp to the air. It's not quite cold enough for Dave to see his breath, but it's chilly enough for him to huddle into as small of a ball as possible to preserve his warmth. His toes will be chilly- ratty sneakers don't really keep out the cold well, especially now that his left one's busted out the side- but the couple minutes of peace getting high brings him is worth it. 

The smoke in his lungs fills him up, makes him buoyant. If he closes his eyes, he almost feels like he could be caught by the wind and lifted up, pulled away from this place, from this world. Like gossamer spiderwebs on the wind.

Shit, that's not too bad. He should try and remember that. He fumbles for his phone and types in  _ gossamer spiderwebs on the wind.  _

_ Three days to the end of the week. Ten days to the end of the month. Then it's just seven more months and school's out. Two more years after that.  _

He takes another pull. He doesn't like overdoing it, especially at school, but sometimes he just needs to not really feel all the way here. It's been a rough couple of days since his stash ran out- so getting the weed back into his system is relief of the best kind. 

Dave raises a hand and rubs at his eyes under his shades. Thankfully his shades help to hide his bloodshot eyes- though, honestly, these days they're probably just as bloodshot from exhaustion as being high. 

Sometimes, he wonders what the fucking point is of anything. There's gotta be more to life than just like… day after day of being in this depressing fucking school. Is he supposed to grow up and go to another school? Get a job at a depressing place where he goes there day after day? 

Everything is just… what's the point? Why should he even bother?

Well. Weed is nice. So that's something, he guesses.

Dave's blood runs cold as he hears the door click and shift. He looks over, hastily pinching the end of his rollup off and stuffing it in his pocket- but instead of the door having been shut, which probably would have been better, he's met with the sight of his fucking gym teacher leaning in the doorway looking down at him.

"Dave." Bro is a fucking brick wall of a man- both physically and with inability of anyone to tell what the man is thinking at any particular moment. Dave might have a prescription to let him wear shades in school, but he's got no idea what Bro's reason for wearing them is. The teacher tilts his head down a little to silently watch Dave for a moment.

"Uh, sup, teach." Dave says, suddenly hot under the collar, nervous sweat breaking out across his body. "Just, uh, came out for some fresh air, you know how it is. A guy's gotta cool off every now and then, it gets real stuffy in that school, haha. You don't gotta worry about me, it's all chill, I'll be back in in a minute or two-"

"You could be expelled, you know." Bro says simply and Dave's words dry up in his mouth, staring blankly at Bro.

Realistically, he knows that. Doing drugs is an expellable offense. But, like, it's one of those things that feel so far away that it's so unlikely. Who gets expelled for weed these days? Like, come on, it's  _ weed.  _ Practically everyone does weed. And yet, here Dave is, suddenly staring down the edge of the precipice. 

Expelled. Ha. That's… funny. Almost. Right? It's a funny joke.

Bro tilts his head a little at Dave, expression unreadable. Dave is sure that, even through his shades, his dawning panic is written across his face like words on a page. 

"Inside." Bro says, holding the door open. Dave scrambles to his feet and almost trips over them on his haste to get inside. He hugs his bag to his chest as Bro turns and starts walking away without a word, following after him anxiously. The mellow buzz of the weed is being pushed out of his system by the encroaching panic. 

He follows Bro to his office, a room by the locker rooms, and gulps as the door swings shut behind them. His gaze flickers around the space- and when Bro gestures towards the shitty plastic chair, Dave sinks into it gratefully. He watches Bro as he digs through the drawers of his desk and pulls out an empty plastic baggie.

"Put all of it in here." Bro says, holding it out. "After school, you will come see me."

Dave's heart sinks like a stone.

"Yes, sir." He mumbles, reaching into his pocket and taking out his bag, putting it in the offered one. He watches mournfully as Bro takes a sharpie and prints  **NOIR, DAVE** on the bag, drops it into a desk drawer, and then locks it, locking away Dave's weed and his crutch to keep his miserable existence going.

"Have you eaten?" Bro asks. Dave shakes his head. 

"No, sir." He hugs his bag tighter. There's a moment as Bro looks him over.

"No lunch money?" Bro guesses. Dave hunches in on himself tighter, then nods. Bro hums.

"Alright. Come on, then." Bro pulls a set of keys out his pocket and Dave looks at him in confusion. The man just arches a brow, so Dave scrambles out of his chair and swings his bag over his shoulder to follow after him. Bro leads him out the busted door and around the corner to the teacher's parking lot, unlocking a sleek black car, and sliding into the driver's seat. Dave scrambles to get in the passenger side- as he climbs in, he realizes the interior of the car is  _ immaculate  _ and immediately feels guilty about putting his ratty, filthy shoes on any part of the car, even if it's just the floor.

Bro doesn't say anything as he starts the car and slings an arm around the back of Dave's seat as he turns to look as he backs up. Dave doesn't stare at the way the motion pulls his polo tight across his muscled chest. He doesn't. What the fuck does this guy  _ eat,  _ to get a body like that? 

Bro pulls out of the parking lot and down the street and Dave stays silent the whole time, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. 

_ So, this is the part where you kill me, right? _

_ So, uh, hope you're not planning on taking me to the woods and killing me, that would be awkward.  _

_ So do you kidnap kids from school to take them to weird places often, or…? _

The words circle in his head until he's finally able to open his mouth and ask, "was this some weird plan to kidnap and kill me? Cause if so, you could've at least let me smoke all that fucking weed before I die."

To his surprise, a smirk pulls at the corner of Bro's mouth. 

"I'm not going to kill you." His tone is laced with amusement. That's… good? "You haven't eaten lunch, so I'm taking you to get food."

".....oh." Dave glances out the window, then back to Bro. "I… don't have any money." He says hesitantly. When he doesn't have money, that usually means….

"I know." Is all Bro says. Dave swallows. That stone in his stomach is getting bigger.

"Okay." He says. Dave stares out the window as they drive and pull up to a McDonalds. 

The woman in the drive through greets them and Bro tells her, "one minute," before looking at Dave. "What do you want?" He asks.

"Um. What can I have?" Dave asks hesitantly, squinting at the menu, raising a hand to bite on his nails nervously.

"Anything."

"Okay. Um." He scans the menu, feeling the weight of Bro's eyes on him, anxiety mounting. Shit, okay, uh- chicken's good, right? "The- number four. Please. No tomato?" 

"Drink?" 

Shit, is McDonalds Pepsi or Coke? Coke, right? Dave scans the menu before giving up and asking, feeling childish, "can I have an apple juice?"

"Sure." Bro looks out the window. "Number four, no tomato, large. Apple juice as drink. Number three, only onion, lettuce, mustard, ketchup, cheese. Large with a sprite. Extra ketchup packets." 

The ease with which he rattles off their order has Dave a little surprised- it's weird to think about teachers just being… normal people. Doing normal people things. Outside of school. Existing. Like, logically, rationally, of course they are. But it's still weird to be confronted with it.

So Dave stays silent as they pull up and Bro pays. The food is handed over to him so he holds it and waits to see what he needs to do as they pull away. 

Bro holds out his hand wordlessly. Dave stares at it for a moment before it clicks and he scrambles to obey, digging out Bro's burger and handing it over. Bro unwraps it without looking and sinks his teeth into it in a motion that has Dave trying not to stare and really, really failing.

Fuck, of course this would happen to him. He's in a car with the hottest teacher in school. Thank god he doesn't have a dick to get an awkward boner with. Small graces. 

He opens the other bag and starts quietly munching on fries, not wanting to risk getting sauce over Bro's clearly-cared-for car. They're hot and salty and fill up his empty stomach in  _ such  _ a good way, fuck- he hasn't had McDonalds in  _ forever  _ , their fries are so goddamn good it's almost bringing tears to his eyes. He could write poems about McDonalds fries. He could rhapsodize sonnets about them. Okay, maybe not, because iambic pentameter is a  _ bitch  _ , but it's the thought that counts.

Bro pulls back up to the school and shuts the car off, wrapping up the half of his burger remaining to get out again. Dave scrambles to follow, hugging the bags close to his chest as Bro lets them back into the school. A glance at his phone shows they still have nineteen minutes left of lunch, so Dave follows Bro to his office again. 

The door clicks shut. Dave puts the bags and drinks down on the desk and looks at Bro, setting his bag down as Bro drops into the chair behind his desk, legs spread. A silent invitation. 

Dave shifts uncomfortably. Bro looks at him and raises that brow of his. 

Right. Time to… get to it. He steps forwards until he's standing in front of his gym teacher. There's a heartbeat where they're just  _ looking  _ at each other- and then Dave sinks to his knees. 

Bro inhales sharply. Dave reaches for his belt, his stomach squirming uncomfortably- only to freeze as his hands are grabbed.

".....sir?" Dave asks hesitantly, his throat going tight. Fuck. Did he- did he misunderstand? Was he not supposed to…? 

"What are you doing, Dave?" Bro asks, his voice low. Controlled.

Dave swallows.

"Paying… you… back?" He says slowly, uncertainly. Bro stares at him. A cold chill sweeps through Dave- oh, fuck. Is… is this not what Bro wants? Is there something else? Or was he not…? 

"You don't have to pay me back for lunch, Dave." Bro says quietly. A shuddering relief swamps through him- as hot as Bro is, Dave  _ really  _ doesn't want to suck his teacher's dick. Not really. Okay, maybe he does, but not like  _ this.  _ Not as a transaction. "Go eat your food." 

Bro lets go of his wrists and, humiliated, Dave rises to his feet and backs away, grabbing the bag of McDonalds and slouching into the uncomfortable plastic chair, shoulders hunched as he pulls a couple of fries out and silently eats them, shame making his chest tight. He can feel the weight of his teacher's stare like blankets piling around his shoulders, hot and stifling and heavy.

"Dave." Dave doesn't flinch when his name is said. He might have gone stiff, but that was  _ not  _ a flinch. "Do you do that often?"

_ Do you whore yourself out?  _

Dave doesn't look at him and chews his lip. He doesn't know how to answer that question, so he stays silent, trying not to squirm guiltily. 

"Dave." Bro says his name again, and his tone is… weirdly soft. "You're not in trouble. I'm not upset. I just want to know. Is it with a teacher?" 

"I- no." Dave fumbles with his words, before shoving a fry in his mouth and mumbling, "it's not a big deal." 

Really, it's not. Just sometimes he gives people blowjobs for stuff. Sometimes it's weed. Sometimes it's lunch. What does it matter? It doesn't, that's what it matters. It doesn't matter. He chooses to do it. It's just how it works. He blows people and they give him stuff.

Clearly, he hadn't picked up on this script being different. He should've realized. He got the thing first, that's not how it usually goes.

Bro's silence is oppressive. Dave feels the urge to fill it, but he doesn't- what would he even say?

He stays silent.

"Is it with another student?" Bro prompts. 

Dave shrugs. Stuffs another fry in his mouth. The swallow down is painful. 

".......is it with your family?" The words are soft and drop ice into Dave's stomach. His head shoots up.

"I- no, it's not- no! Ew, I don't-" just the idea makes Dave want to retch or kill himself or maybe both. Something in Bro's expression clears up a little, maybe relief-? Dave isn't sure. 

"Alright." Bro leans forwards, folding his arms on his desk. Dave drops his gaze again, but Bro says, "Dave, look at me."

Reluctantly, Dave looks at him. It's uncomfortable, holding his gaze, even through the double barrier of their glasses.

"If someone is forcing you to give head, then I need you to tell me who it is." Bro says. "You won't be in trouble."

"No one is  _ forcing  _ me." Dave says weakly. It's true, but… is it really? If he didn't do it, then there were days he wouldn't have been able to eat at  _ all.  _ But, it's not like they drag him into the bathroom and  _ order  _ him too, he's not  _ forced  _ to…

Bro nods just a tiny bit. "Is it normal, then, for you to trade blowjobs for food?" He asks. Dave hunches in on himself and doesn't say anything. 

"Dave." Bro prompts gently. Dave's never heard his serious, rough, no-nonsense gym teacher sound so soft before. 

It's fucking with him a little bit, so before he realizes what's happening he's mumbled, "and weed."

Dave really wishes the floor would open up and swallow him. Hot claws are tearing into his chest, his throat closing up and going tight. It's so stupid- it's so fucking stupid. He shakily reaches out and puts the bags of food on the desk and draws his knees up to his chest in the uncomfortable plastic chair and shoves his shades up to the top of his head so that he can press his eyes into his knees and pretend that he's not crying. 

He doesn't realize Bro's moved until a hand's settled on his shoulder and he jumps- the touch feels hot and electric and he's leaning into Bro's side before he knows what's happening and Bro's other hand is on his head, just a warm, almost-comforting weight and the tears are coming harder and Dave can't stop. 

The fabric of Bro's polo is surprisingly soft. As Dave presses his face to it and cries, somewhere inside him is a little voice going  _ wow, I didn't expect that.  _

Bro, surprisingly, just stands there and lets Dave cry. His hand rubs comfortingly across Dave's shoulders, every now and then, just… letting Dave cry. It's so weird, but… it's also… fine? In a way? This is a teacher who no one expects to do more than crack the tiniest of smiles when he sees kids trying to murder each other with dodgeballs. No one would expect that he would just let Dave cry all over him, so it's… fine. 

It's just fine. Eventually Dave shifts a little and Bro lets go, going back to his chair and sitting down again.

"From now on, if you don't have lunch, you are coming to me." Bro says and something in Dave's chest catches weirdly.

"Uh." He says, eloquently, before the rest of his brain catches up. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, because I really do, a bitch can get real damn hungry sometimes when the last thing he had was a ham and cheese sandwich from the night before-" why the fuck did he say that, that was way too telling- "but like, why? No fucking offense, but you're not exactly 'caring teacher showering fluff and hugs onto his students' of the year. Of the decade, even. Maybe even of the century." 

Bro snorts. "I'm aware. You want to know why? Because I feel like it."

"Because… you feel like it?" Dave prompts, not sure what to make of the reply.

"Yeah. Because I feel like it." 

That… tells him exactly nothing. Great. Does that mean that if Bro doesn't feel like it, he won't get Dave food (which is  _ what the fuck  _ as it is, honestly-)?

So this 'come see me' shit, is it conditional? Situational? Does it have a limit, should he only come once a week or something? Dave doesn't think Bro understands just how little lunch money he has on any given day. Sure, he doesn't  _ usually  _ need to get someone to buy him lunch, but it happens a not-insignificant amount of times in a month on days where he can't even buy a candy bar from the vending machines.

"Okay……" Dave trails off, not really sure how to respond.

"Eat." Bro says, pointing at the mostly-untouched bag. "You have six minutes left."

Dave eats. When he's finished, he tosses the garbage out, awkwardly mumbles a thanks, and gets the fuck out of there. 

He almost doesn't go after school, but the harmonious call of weed is pretty fucking alluring, especially because he doesn't want to try and get more from his dealer and get a bunch of really annoying questions shoved his way by some dude who really needs to just learn that just because Dave blows him every now and then doesn't mean that he gets to pry into Dave's personal shit. 

But here he is, after the bell rings, standing in front of Bro's office door. He raises his fist to knock, hesitates, knocks, and waits. 

There's no answer. He shifts uncomfortably and wonders if he should knock again…? After checking his phone and waiting for the clock to turn over to the next minute, he raises his hand to knock again.

"You're here." 

Dave is here, if by 'here' Bro means about two feet in the air, having practically jumped out of his skin in surprise.

"What the fuck, holy shit, how do you move that goddamn quiet?" Dave demands, trying to get his heart to chill the fuck out, it's fine, it's just Bro. How  _ did  _ he do that, though? These hallways are echo-y as shit! 

"Practice." Bro says with a smirk, and then unlocks his door and ushers Dave inside. Dave shuffles inside uncomfortably, watching as Bro goes over to his desk and unlocks it. He pulls out the bag weed and sets it on his desk. Dave stares at it longingly. 

"Are you gonna get me expelled?" Dave asks. 

"No." Bro says. "But I would like one solid reason to give this back to you."

Dave bites his lip, shrugs, and mutters, _ "because I bought it and I really want it back." _

Bro hums. Dave waits, anxiety making his stomach squirm. 

"Alright." Bro says, and then the bag is being tossed at Dave, who scrambles to catch it, cradling it to his chest with wide eyes. "But don't let me catch you smoking it on school grounds again or next time I won't give it back."

"I, uh, okay- um- thank you sir, like yeah. Um." Dave fumbles to shove it in his backpack, shifting awkwardly. "So is this, like, where the  _ being responsible with weed  _ lecture comes in?" He asks, trying not to think about the sudden idea of shotgunning weed with Bro in his car slamming into his brain from  _ literally nowhere, thanks brain.  _

Bro raises a brow at him and Dave tries not to think about how he almost blew him. How he almost had his hot, sexy teacher's dick in his mouth and- oh, he really really needs to stop thinking about this. His face feels so hot, he's definitely blushing hard enough that it's visible, he's so fucked. 

"Do you  _ want  _ a lecture, Dave?" Bro asks.

"Of the sexy kind, maybe." Dave's mouth says without input from his brain. "Oh my god. Let's pretend I didn't say that. Holy shit."

Dave puts his face in his hands. 

"Please kill me." He mumbles.

"I'm not going to kill you." Bro says, his voice full of amusement.

"Okay. Thanks, Mr. Strider." Dave mumbles. His chest feels tight with a hot kind of humiliation, shifting uncomfortably. 

"I'll see you tomorrow." Bro says, tilting his head towards the door.

Dave takes the hint and steps over to it-

"Oh, and, Dave?"

Dave looks back at him, hand on the doorknob.

"You can call me Bro."

"Okay." Dave says awkwardly, and then flees. No, not flees, leaves calmly and- okay, he was fleeing. 

He ends up at the park a few blocks from home, on the swings, hanging off of them and trying really hard not to think about the fact that he has to go to school tomorrow and look his gym teacher in the eye after almost blowing him, after his gym teacher asked if Dave was doing  _ that  _ with a family member- 

Dave wants to puke, the anxiety clawing at his gut making him sick to his stomach. It's so fucked up, it's- 

It's. Not true, but. 

Reluctantly, Dave eventually trudges home.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, he's got a black eye to try and hide underneath his shades. Rose very carefully doesn't comment on it and Dave is grateful for her faking a twisted ankle so that she can get some ice for him to put it on his eye. What would he do without her, really? She even neatly splits her sandwich right down the middle to share half with him before school starts. 

It's tuna. Dave hates tuna. It's the best goddamn sandwich he's ever eaten. She even gets a few apple slices into his stomach and then lets him nap on her shoulder until first bell. 

He's able to just keep his head down and ignore everyone, once more going over the dates in his head. 

_ Two days to the end of the week. Nine days to the end of the month. Then it's just seven more months and school's out. Two more years after that and then I can leave. Two days to the end of the week. Nine days to the end of the month. Then it's just seven more months and school's out. Two more years after that and then I can leave. Two days to the end of the week… _

Gym is always uncomfortable. He's gotten very good at slipping into the bathroom to change instead of doing it out with everyone else, deflecting with a quip or two about blinding everyone with his pasty ass skin reflecting the sharp locker room lights, so no one bothers him as he changes in the handicapped stall and forces himself to breathe deep and cough, something that Rose's gotten on his case about  _ multiple  _ times over doing to make sure his lungs aren't fucked.

When he slips into the gym, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts casually, Bro doesn't even give him a glance. Probably? Actually, Dave can't tell. But it doesn't feel much different that day at gym, so maybe it's okay. 

Maybe it's just a weird one-off. Dave almost sucked his teacher off after getting his weed confiscated but it's fine. Nothing happened.

Dave doesn't have lunch that day, but he doesn't want to go to Bro. It would feel weird, the idea of taking Bro's charity needling at him uncomfortably. 

In the end, he ends up at the broken doors, staring at them, trying to decide if he should go out or not and smoke to deal with the uncomfortable thrum of anxiety in his chest. He's honestly not that surprised when a hand clamps down on his shoulder, but he does jump when it happens.

"Thinking about it?" Bro asks, low voice sending a shiver down Dave's spine. 

"Maybe." Dave says. "...............why do you care?" 

There's a beat.

"Come to my office, Dave."

The hand drops and Dave turns. He follows. Bro shuts the office door again and Dave shifts, stuffing his hands in his pockets uncomfortably before taking them out again and grabbing his bag strap instead. 

"I used to be like you." Bro says, which is the most cliche, cheesiest line of them all, but Dave is watching Bro drop into his chair, tug off his cap, and ruffle his hair in a move that has something hot lurching in Dave's stomach. Up go Bro's feet onto his desk, tipping back his chair a little, and Dave sinks into the uncomfortable plastic one.

"Obviously not exactly like you," Bro amends, making Dave freeze, "I wasn't in danger of getting the shit kicked outta me if someone saw me naked, that's for sure." 

"You… know?" Dave asks, cold fear pumping through his veins, rooting him to the floor. 

"Yeah, kid, I know." Bro says, and then he reaches up and  _ flicks his shades up _ .

Dave's breath catches.

Bro's eyes are a warm, deep amber color and they watch Dave with a foreign expression as Bro settles his shades on the top of his head and reaches for a water bottle on his desk, twisting the cap open and taking a drink.

"....oh." Dave manages. "I didn't think… anyone…"  _ knew I was trans.  _

"I doubt anyone else knows." Bro says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You pass well."

"How'd… you find out?" Dave asks hesitantly. 

"Saw your binder." Bro says. "Served with a guy in the same place as you. Wasn't hard to put it together."

"Served? You were in the military?" Dave asks- though maybe he shouldn't be surprised, Bro  _ looks  _ like a brick shithouse of a military man. 

"Yeah." Bro snorts. "Three years and four months before I got kicked out. Decked a C.O. cause he wouldn't stop running his mouth and there went my record down the drain." 

"Huh." This is probably more information he's getting in, what, five sentences? Than anyone else in the entire rest of the school knows  _ combined.  _ "That's… uh. I don't really know what to say to that?" Dave says.

"Yeah, not the point." Bro says, waving a hand. "The point I was saying was that I was like you, Dave. Aimless, stuck in a shitty place with no future to look forward to…"

His gaze flickers to Dave's black eye.

"........and, I think, a family that doesn't quite appreciate you as much as they should." 

Dave hunches in on himself.

"It's not like that." He mumbles, but the words catch in his throat and come out weaker than he'd like.

"Was it your old man?" Bro asks, tone light, like they're discussing the weather. "See, for me, I didn't really get one family. I got a bunch- cause I was a trouble kid in the system. Bounced me around till I aged out, course, most places I ended up with were just in it for the paycheck. I can't count how many times I ended up with a split lip for backtalking or getting locked in my bedroom for breaking some minor rule."

Dave looks up at Bro, at the relaxed slope to his shoulders, at the calm patience in his gaze, and hesitantly slides his shades off, folding them up and holding them in his lap. He has to squint a bit as the light stings, but… now Bro knows that Dave's a freak with demon eyes.

Bro doesn't say anything. Not even a bat of an eye from him. 

Dave swallows. "There's no point." He mumbles. "It's not worth it." 

"Probably not." Bro says, which shouldn't hurt but it  _ does  _ and Dave slides down in the chair, hugging his bag to his chest. "Unfortunately, cps is a fucking joke of an agency. Won't do shit for you, most likely."

" _....yeah. _ " Dave whispers hoarsely. " _ And. He's… he's still my dad, you know? He's… _ "

Dave squeezes his eyes shut. 

"Yeah." Bro says. "I know."

Heat leaks down his cheeks. "Fuck-" Dave curses, swiping at it. "God dammit, no- I don't want to be fucking crying right now, I- I still have the rest of the day to get through!  _ Fuck. _ " 

"I'll write you a pass." Bro says. "Don't worry about it, at the very least I can excuse you from next period." 

He sets something down on the edge of the desk and when Dave looks up, he sees that it's a box of tissues, so he grabs a couple and aggressively wipes his face. 

"Um. Okay." He croaks. "Thanks. I guess." 

He has to keep wiping his face, over and over, so he starts folding the tissues into smaller triangles as he goes, until he's got three little folded tissue triangles neatly lined up on Bro's desk and his tears have slowed to just a sniffle. 

"So, um," Dave sniffles, dabbing at his face with a new tissue. "What now?" It's not like Bro can just snap his fingers and make everything better. Dave still doesn't really understand why Bro is bringing this up, breaking his cool shield to talk to him about this. 

Bro drums his fingers on the desk.

"Now," he decides, "we start with making sure you get lunch every day."

"What?" 

Bro arches a brow at him. 

"I mean, no, I heard you," Dave hastens to explain, "I just- I don't-" He trails off and looks at Bro helplessly. 

"Understand why?" Bro asks. Dave nods. Rubbing his chin with one hand, Bro looks away, contemplative.

"Cause I wish I had a teacher who would've done it for me," is what he says. 

"....oh." Dave looks down at his hands, which are picking at his nails with a kind of idle anxiety. "Um."

"..........thanks." He mumbles.

Bro lets the silence sit for a moment. 

"You're welcome, Dave." Bro says, his voice soft. He settles his shades back on and Dave slips his own on, sensing the moment finishing. He wipes his face, smooths out his hair, brushes down his clothes, straightens his bag, and it's like nothing ever happened. Well, except for his red cheeks, but that's not anything he can help.

"What's your lunch status today?" Bro asks.

"Pitiful." Dave says honestly, because like, why the fuck not. Sure. If Bro wants to buy him lunch every day like a fucking weirdo, then that's his decision and as much as Dave hates charity, he's not going to turn down the idea of free food.

Bro drops his feet to the floor and spins his car keys on his finger. (It actually looks really cool, Dave is kind of jealous of the ease at which every movement Bro makes just  _ exudes  _ cool.)

"Let's fix that, then."

To Dave's surprise, Bro keeps his word. It's not  _ every  _ day that Dave goes to see him for lunch, but… it's more often than not. He feels awkward just taking lunch and dipping, so he ends up eating lunch with Bro, too. His friends have  _ definitely  _ noticed, but he brushes it off by telling them he got a sugar daddy. 

One week turns into two, turns into three, and before Dave realizes it, it's been a whole month. He's pretty sure that he's now the resident expert on Bro Strider, Gym Teacher, having slowly learned tiny little tidbits of information from him with each lunch that passes by.

And, oh boy, it really doesn't help his uncomfortably strong crush on his teacher. It  _ really  _ doesn't. He finds out that Bro decked his C.O. because he wouldn't stop spouting homophobic bullshit, that he was actually homeless for a few years and survived solely through couch-surfing and working shitty manual labor jobs before he could get enough together to rent his own place and start piecing his life together. 

Something about that has Dave's heart pounding in his chest weirdly, thinking about this calm, collected, cool man just… struggling to get by. Like Dave is going to have to, when he graduates.

He learns other things, too. Small things. How Bro hates the taste of pickles and tomatoes, but would probably eat an entire onion raw with how much he likes them. How Bro is a country fan, but only of older country music- Dave was treated to a ten minute ramble about how current country music is overproduced and "over-patriotized" and every goddamn song is the same. He learned that Bro likes older movies, especially samurai and cowboy movies, to which Bro tells him that they're "basically the same genre, really, just with a different coat of paint and mild cultural differences", which Dave doesn't know if he agrees or not with that, but after that they start watching  _ Throne of Blood _ in snippets at a time over their lunches together- and it takes Dave forty minutes of the movie to realize that it's actually a retelling of  _ MacBeth  _ and accuse Bro of being in cahoots with his English teacher.

(That was the first time Dave saw Bro laugh, not just huff- full on tilt his head down and chuckle. The sound left him feeling shivery all day.)

It's Dave that breaks the weird, growing tension between the two of them. They're driving back from their food run and he can't stop staring at the way Bro's hands are gripping the wheel.

Maybe it's because just last night, his dad called him a stupid tranny and sent him to bed with an empty stomach and a hurting heart. Maybe it's because he woke up that morning with a wet mess between his thighs and thoughts about Bro's mouth and he's been feeling hot and prickly all over since. Maybe it's because he can't stop thinking about the warmth of Bro's hand on his shoulder, guiding him out to his car. 

"Can you pull over?" Dave asks. Bro casts him a glance- and then he pulls over and parks the car.

"What's up?" He asks. Dave's heart kicks up into his ears- what is he  _ doing _ ?- but he fumbles for his seatbelt, undoes it, and reaches across to grab Bro's polo.

He leans in, drags Bro in, and their mouths meet. Dave squeezes his eyes shut- hot butterflies are flapping in his stomach, his head spinning with anxiety but it feels  _ right,  _ kissing Bro feels  _ good- _

Bro's hand cradles the back of his head. Bro isn't pulling away. Dave makes a desperate noise of relief and melts against him, clumsily trying to kiss him- 

Bro gently tugs him back. Ice crystalizes in Dave's chest as he pulls back and looks at Bro uncertainly, hands still gripping his shirt.

A beat of silence.

"Is this what you want, Dave?" Bro asks quietly. "We both could get in a  _ lot  _ of trouble."

Dave nods. "Yes." He says, and his voice is  _ filled  _ with desperation. "I- I want this. Please, Mr. Strider. I want you." 

Bro's hand shifts to cradle Dave's cheek and Dave turns his face into it, the contact so burningly soothing. 

"Alright." Bro says. "But not here, in my car. You deserve better than that. After school."

Really? Bro is going to-? Dave's eyes go wide. "O-okay." He gasps, but then bites his lip. "Can… can we… right now?" 

"What, kiss?" Bro asks and Dave nods, face hot. "Sure. Just a bit." And then Bro's mouth is on Dave's again and Dave is being kissed. It's hot and his mouth hangs open a bit as Bro mouths against him, slow and sensual, soft and wet noises filling the car.

"Mmmmh…" Dave moans softly, his hips shifting in an instinctive response to such a strong man kissing him nice and tender, he's… he's never been kissed before and… it feels good, his eyes fluttering shut, tying to copy Bro and kiss him back, a little bit wet, a little messy, but it just feels good,  _ so  _ good…

When Bro pulls back, Dave feels dazed, his brain kind of foggy. Bro chuckles and swipes his thumb against Dave's lower lip and says "kissed out looks good on you." 

Dave flushes in embarrassment- but, also, Bro thinks he looks… good? He slumps into his seat and fumbles for the seatbelt to click it back in as Bro puts the car back into drive.

The rest of the day is  _ agony.  _ Dave keeps his head down, one leg bouncing on the floor, the other tucked up underneath him, just to put pressure on himself down there, just for  _ some  _ kind of stimulation to take off the hot, horny edge to every one of his thoughts. He can't stop feeling the sensation of being kissed, of Bro's hand on his face, can't stop thinking about how he's going to… to… with  _ Bro. _

It doesn't feel real. Somehow, though, Dave gets through everything and ends up outside of Bro's office, waiting awkwardly. He keeps checking his phone- what if Bro changed his mind? What if Dave ruined everything? Fuck, what if-

It's a relief to see Bro come around the corner, so Dave straightens up and wiggles his toes impatiently in his shoes. 

"Ready to go?" Bro asks and Dave nods. He follows Bro out to his car, anxiety twisting in his stomach, slipping into the familiar seat. When they pull out, they take a right instead of a left and holy shit, it's actually happening. He's actually… going to do this. 

It's a quiet drive to Bro's apartment, then a two-flight walk up to his apartment, which is a one-bedroom. Bro shuts the door behind them and Dave tries not to be obvious with his curiosity, but his attention is pulled by Bro saying,

"Dave." 

Dave looks at him.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Bro asks- and Dave nods firmly. He's not a coward. He's not backing out- he wants this. "Alright. Come on, then." 

Dave tails after him to his bedroom, where Bro shuts the door with a final-sounding  _ click.  _ Maybe it should be scary- but now Dave is staring up at Bro as he pulls his hat off and tosses it aside and all he can feel is a flush in his face, a shiver in his legs, and a weird clench between his thighs as Bro steps close. 

His big hands settle on Dave's hips. Dave sucks in a shaky breath. Bro leans in and then they're kissing, Dave's arms coming up to wrap around Bro's neck, kissing him back, tense and a little weirded out by the sensation but- it feels nice and so he's gradually relaxing into it, letting Bro kiss him and it's wet and warm and… nice, in a really really really hot way. 

He squirms a little, draping himself more against Bro's front- and then squeaking in surprise as Bro leans down and hooks his hands under Dave's ass, lifting him up and carrying him over to the bed. Dave clings to his shoulders, heart pounding, and lets himself be laid out on his back on the bed, looking up at his teacher.

God, this is real, isn't it? Bro is actually… they're going to… someone actually  _ wants  _ him. 

So Dave doesn't protest as Bro slips off both of their shades, setting them on the nightstand. He doesn't protest as Bro leans in and kisses him again, hands on Dave's waist squeezing gently. Bro is so much bigger and stronger and his touch makes Dave feel weirdly  _ delicate _ . He thinks he might like it.

"Mm-hmmm-aah-" Dave moans softly as his hands run up Bro's chest- he has no idea what he's doing, but he's watched porn and that can't be  _ that  _ different- like the basics are the same, tab A into slot B only  _ he's  _ slot B, he's about to  _ be  _ f-

Be  _ fucked _ . Fuck. 

Dave lets his mouth open as wet muscle slips forwards, invading his mouth and he feels so hot, warm and squirmy all over, shifting underneath Bro and rubbing his thighs together. Bro notices- of course he does, his hands squeezing Dave's waist a little as he kisses Dave firmly, tongue sweeping through the inside of Dave's mouth before pulling back. Bro sucks Dave's lower lip between his teeth and Dave  _ gasps  _ at the way it makes his chest lurch, tilting his head up as his hips jut up against nothing.

"So horny." Bro teases, letting go of Dave's lips, and there's a wicked, amused fire in his eyes that is setting Dave on  _ fire.  _ "Are you that desperate to be touched?" 

"Mmm- yes,  _ please  _ Mr. Strider…" Dave begs, he wants Bro's hands all over him  _ hours  _ ago. Bro chuckles and dips his head to kiss Dave's neck, slow presses of his mouth and little hot spikes of tongue that have Dave moaning helplessly. His knees feel weak as they press together, so it's easy for Bro to gently tug them apart and slip his broad, firm thigh between them and up against the hollow of Dave's thighs. 

Dave moans as he gets contact where he so  _ desperately  _ wants it, young and running hot and his hips immediately start rubbing against Bro's thigh, chasing the tantalizing, teasing ghosts of pleasure through their clothes.

"Alright, alright." Bro says, smoothing Dave's hair back. "Relax a bit- I'll take care of you, Dave, but we gotta get all this taken care of, first." His hands find Dave's shirt and Dave flushes, stilling a bit so that Bro can tug his shirt up and over his head.

"Good boy." Bro says and Dave freezes. His mouth feels dry, eyes wide, stomach hot as he stares up at Bro. Bro tilts his head a little.

"Alright?" He asks, his warm hand resting on Dave's stomach, below his binder. 

"Y-yeah." Dave stutters. Bro hums.

"Alright." He repeats, leaning in and pressing a quick, searingly hot kiss to Dave's mouth that has him moaning helplessly and melting into the darting flashes of tongue. "Now why don't you be a good boy and get your pants off for me?" Bro purrs, making a strangled whimper slip from Dave's throat. Bro slides back to give Dave a bit of room and Dave scrambles to obey, stripping off his pants and underwear and tossing them to the side, settling back down, legs together, embarrassed and eager.

"Good boy." Bro purrs again, and Dave shivers, eyes fluttering- he doesn't understand, but the words are like fucking water just dumping into his brain, washing everything else away.

"You like that, don't you?" Bro questions, one warm hand on Dave's calf. Dave swallows.

"Yeah." He whispers. Bro smirks.

"Then I know you'll do everything I tell you- because that's what good boys do."

Dave shudders out a whimpering breath.

"That's not- fair." He says weakly- but then Bro is gently spreading his legs and Dave yelps, embarrassment making him shove his hands down there, trying to hide himself.

"Dave," Bro says patiently, and Dave flushes.

"S-sorry-" he says, shoulders hunched, as he looks away. "It's just- you- you know?" 

"It's okay." Bro soothes, shifting so that their bodies are even closer, his own thighs spread for Dave's to drape over. "Hey- if you need me to, I won't look. Okay?" 

Dave bites his lip.

"O…okay." He whispers, and slowly slips his hands away. True to his word, Bro just keeps his gaze on Dave. 

"Good boy." Bro murmurs, as his fingers trail up Dave's thigh slowly. The press against Dave's wetness and his brows twitch up. "Wow- you're already so wet just from some kissing?" He teases lightly, making Dave flush, squirming at the feeling of someone else's fingers on his junk. 

"I- I can't help it…" Dave whines, thighs twitching in response to Bro's thumb brushing over his button, a physical reaction coupled with his gut jumping in tightness, but there's a sweat breaking out on his skin. 

He feels so- so-  _ overwhelmed _ like this, Bro's fingers are nothing like his own. He can't control them- it's so much more  _ vivid  _ when Bro touches him. His thumb is rubbing slowly in circles around Dave's button, making him shiver and squirm- and then it's two fingers rubbing up and down his folds.

"Have you ever been with anyone, Dave?" Bro asks softly.

"No…" Dave admits, gaze skittering away.

"I'm your first, then?" Bro's brows arch- and then he smiles. "I'll make it good for you, then. A beautiful boy like you deserves it."

"Ah, I'm not-" Dave protests weakly even as his stomach flips and he shivers, but Bro doesn't let up.

"You're so handsome." Bro purrs, his fingers teasing at Dave's entrance. "A good boy for me- and so lovely." 

One hot finger pushes inside. Dave lets out a choked cry, clenching on it, but it moves smoothly as it gently pushes in and in and  _ in _ , deeper than Dave's fingers could normally go, until it's bumping against his insides in a way that has him fighting back a weird, breathy noise. 

"So turned on." Bro muses, gently twisting his finger back and forth and rocking it, Dave squeezing his eyes shut to focus on the sensation. "You're awfully sensitive, aren't you?" Bro questions. "It's cute. I wonder how many times I can make you cum tonight."

Dave whimpers softly as Bro rubs against his inner walls- gasping a little mewl as Bro's finger grinds over that spot that makes his gut clench hotly. 

"There it is." Bro purrs. "Good boy. You're so  _ responsive." _

"Nn- is- is that- good?" Dave stutters through the tight pleasure in his gut of Bro firmly, lazily massaging that spot. 

"It's  _ very  _ good." Bro purrs, making Dave flush harder. Every time Bro calls him  _ good  _ or praises him, he feels like he's about to combust and he  _ doesn't know what to do about it.  _

"Now, relax for me, Dave." Bro says- and then a second finger is joining the first, a smooth glide in, filling Dave wider than his own fingers could.

"A-ah-?" Dave gasps as Bro's fingers wiggle and rock- and then yelps as they start to push into him forcefully. He can feel how soaked he is, how wet Bro's fingers are, gliding into him and pushing deep, his hips jerking up into the motion. 

"So good." Bro purrs and Dave feels himself go tight around Bro's fingers- flushing hard in response. His teacher's thick digits feel  _ good _ , good in a deep way that his own don't. "Now, relax, Dave. Just  _ feel."  _

Dave tries to relax. Bro's fingers start moving faster, pushing a little harder until it's not- it can't be fingering, it's- Bro is  _ fucking  _ Dave with his fingers and it feels  _ incredible- _ Dave squirms and mewls as Bro's fingers push deep and grind against his walls, against that spot, toes curling against the bed as his teacher fingerbangs him fast and hard, fingers as slippery as a fish as they dart into Dave's body, and the whole time Bro is watching Dave's face, his low, sexy, manly voice crooning low words,  _ "good boy, Dave, good- just like this, doesn't it feel good? Don't you like having your little boypussy fingerbanged open, you're so wet- I know you do, look at you, so goddamn beautiful, moaning for me, I can't wait to get my cock in you, make you  _ **_really_ ** _ lose your mind- fuck, that's it, can you cum for me, Dave? Can you cum like a good boy? You can do it- come on, cum for me-" _

Bro's other hand slips down and starts rubbing over Dave's button and Dave is lost. He cries out, clutching at Bro's shoulders, hips arching off the bed as he cums, a hot wash of pleasure  _ surging  _ through him, to the crown of his head and the tips of his toes, moaning as Bro's fingers keep going, they  _ keep going, _ they fuck hard and fast as Dave rides that crest, pushing it harder and harder until he seizes again, heels planted against the bed as he  _ mewls _ , eyes rolling back as the pleasure turns  _ blinding,  _ a second orgasm right on the heels of the first as his button is abused, hips jerking and jumping.

Bro's fingers pull free as Dave crashes back to the bed, shaking and panting, whimpering softly with dazed pleasure as he stares up at Bro.

"Good boy, Dave." Bro purrs. "That was  _ so _ good." 

His hips feel a bit numb, his legs twitching and throbbing with muscle tics beyond his control as he pants. Still, there's a flutter in his chest at Bro's praise. He tilts his face into the hand that cups his cheek, flashes fluttering against his pale skin as he looks up at Bro.

"Dave," Bro asks, "are you ready to have your cherry popped?" 

Dave shudders.

"Yes." He whispers. Bro smiles down at him and gives him a soft kiss before pulling back, letting Dave slowly come down, sweat cooling on his skin as Bro leans over for his nightstand and opens the drawer, pulling out a condom. He undoes his belt, pops open his pants button, and tugs them down enough to pull his cock out.

Dave can't help his staring as he watches Bro stroke himself a couple of times and then tear open the condom to roll it on. Bro's dick is…  _ big. _ Dave swallows thickly- that dick is about to… to go inside him. To take his virginity. 

"Relax, Dave." Bro murmurs as he slides a little closer- and then his cock is resting against Dave's folds. Dave can feel it- it's hot through the rubber of the condom and shivers are breaking out across his body because Bro is reaching down and holding himself steady to press the head of his cock to Dave's entrance. His gaze is still locked on Dave's, so Dave swallows and spreads his legs a little wider. 

There's pressure, a sensation of  _ invading _ and being pushed open and- it's smooth and hot and- Dave sucks a breath in as Bro just… slides in. Hot and thick and it's so so so different from fingers. It fills him up in a different way, thicker and unyeilding and Dave feels heat rising into his chest, into his face. 

"Good boy." Bro murmurs, slowly shifting forwards. His hands come to Dave's knees and he gently lifts Dave's legs- and that shifts his dick inside of Dave and Dave gasps wetly as the pressure changes. 

"Okay?" Bro asks and Dave nods quickly.

"Yeah." Dave gets out through his tight chest. "Just- it's just- a lot." 

"Yeah." Bro echoes back. "I've got you, Dave. Just relax." 

"Mmmmn- yeah…" Dave does his best, trying to relax into the bed, and Bro just… keeps pushing in. And  _ in. _ His cock presses into the back of Dave's insides, against that spot that feels so weirdly good but also uncomfortable- and then it presses  _ against  _ that spot, like it's trying to push up farther. 

"Uhg- fuck…. you're  _ big.. _ ." Dave moans, shifting, resisting the urge to put a hand over his stomach to see if he could feel Bro's cock through his belly. It certainly  _ feels  _ like he should be able to, he feels like Bro's cock is stuffed up right behind his freaking  _ guts.  _

Bro chuckles softly in response. "I sure am." He says- and then his hips are pressed up against Dave's and there's a hot pressure washing through Dave as he whimpers softly, just feeling the heat inside of him.

Bro shifts Dave's legs gently, draping them open around his waist, and leans forwards. The motion grinds his cock slightly inside of Dave and Dave moans, hot and flushed from head to toe, cheeks burning. 

"Feel that, Dave?" Bro asks softly. Dave gazes up at Bro blearily, his chest tight. That might be his binder, though. He can't tell.

"Uh...uh-huh." He nods dumbly, his mouth is hanging open a little bit but- he can't find it in himself to close it, not when there's this deep heat in the cradle of his hips filling him up.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Bro murmurs and shifts just a tiny bit, the pressure inside of Dave shifting as well and making his breath catch. He's so  _ full _ , and if he clenches down just a little it sends a new little wave of pleasure into his gut, making his eyes flutter. 

"Yeah…" Dave breathes. "Yeah, it does…."

Bro chuckles softly, leaning in that last couple of inches to press their mouths together, hot and slow and sensual as he kisses Dave, licking slowly into his mouth. Dave lets it happen, lets Bro pour pleasure into him like water. 

"God, you look so fucking good like this." Bro breathes against Dave's mouth. "Flushed and submissive, with your boypussy stuffed full of cock…" He grinds his hips a little, making Dave jolt and mewl softly, his words sinking into Dave and making him tremble all over with hot embarrassment.

"M.. Mr. Strider…" He says weakly- only to moan as Bro rocks his hips.

"Yes?" Bro asks, but Dave doesn't have a response and they both know it. So Bro chuckles and shifts and hikes Dave's legs up-

And moves.

It's a blur of color and sensation and a deep, all-consuming pleasure. Dave clings to Bro's shoulders as pleasure aches into every corner of his body. Bro's cock pumps into him- slowly, at first, but getting faster and faster as Dave's mewls get needier and more desperate, until the headboard is banging against the wall and Dave's eyes are squeezed shut as he clings to his teacher, legs wrapped around his waist as he's fucked, as pleasure crests through him in waves, rippling out from the connection between their bodies, the connection of such an intimate act that it has tears budding in Dave's eyes. 

For the first time, he feels  _ wanted. _

Bro croons to him through the whole thing. Filthy words that make his ears feel like they're on fire, praises and whispers that has his heart pounding, soft little grunts of his own- but he kisses Dave and Dave clings to him as he cums, trembling and panting. Bro is not much further behind- slamming in with a low groan and stilling.

They come down in bits. Dave, sinking into the bed, sweaty and hair plastered to his forehead and hips aching and muscles sore from being so tense. Bro, pulling out and cleaning himself up, pressing a kiss to the crown of Dave's head and offering him tissues. Dave, yawning and sleepy, cleaning himself up and dumping the tissues on the nightstand for no where else to put them.

Bro's hand in his hair. Bro against his back, curling around him.

"Mr. Strider?" Dave murmurs, his hand resting over Bro's where it curls around his waist. 

"Yeah?" 

"Can… when… Um." Dave feels stupid, but he pushes on. "When… when I graduate, can I… come live here?" 

Bro hums.

"We'll see." He says. "Maybe." 

Maybe. It's more hope than Dave's had since… ever. He'll take it.

_ I think I love you. _ Dave thinks, his thoughts hazy and dark with sleep.

As he drifts off, his ever present reminder comes to him. 

_ One day to the end of the week. Four days to the end of the month. Then it's just six more months and school's out. Two more years after that and then I can move in with Bro. One day to the end of the week… _

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing, check me out on Twitter at [@LPSunnyBunny](http://www.twitter.com/LPSunnyBunny)!


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